Surge: (#7 The Beat and The Pulse) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Gabe winked suggestively at the octagon girls before his gaze met mine. He paused for a second, obviously liking what he saw, then made a kissy face at me.
    “Did he just…” Violet asked, her mouth dropping open.
    “Yep,” I replied, not knowing how to take it. “That just happened.”
    We glanced at one another and burst out into fits of giggles. What a self-absorbed douche.
    Gabe turned and stepped onto the scales, flexing his muscles.
    “Eighty point seven,” the announcer bellowed. “Gabe O’Connell!”
    Gabe stepped off the scales and strode over to meet Dean, and the two faced off—stock standard eyeballed each other in an attempt to intimidate prior to the fight. There was a bit of theatrical muscle flexing from Gabe, but Dean just stood there and glared until they were pushed apart.
    “This is going to be a bloody circus,” Lincoln said beside me. “We’ve been watching his past fights, and the guy likes to put on a show.”
    “Arrogance,” I replied. “Surely that can be used against him?”
    “Maybe, but they’re two arrogant tossers together.”
    I snorted, covering my mouth with my hand. He had a point.
    As the weigh-in came to a close, Vee and Lincoln cleared out, the crowd began to disperse, and I went out back to wait for Coach and Dean. Talking shop with some of the other PR reps, I kept one eye on the door. When the twin appeared, he waved to me to wait and went over to the wall of waiting fans.
    There was a great deal of good things about Dean when I thought about it. He was good to the punters, taking his time to say hello, he was focused in his training and fights, and he took the AUFC’s charity work seriously, raising hundreds of thousands of dollars on his own. All of that was easy to overlook when he could be such a self-absorbed asshole who only thought about his cock. I suppose all those good things were why it was so easy to get him out of trouble when he landed headfirst in it. I just wished I didn’t have to bail him out in the first place.
    Hanging back as he signed autographs and took selfies, I played with my phone, scrolling through emails for something to do while he was being fawned over.
    “Hey, Blondie.”
    Glancing up, I found Gabe O’Connell himself standing before me, a cocky grin pulling at his lips. He did have damn fine lips despite the arrogant asshole they were attached to.
    “I have a name,” I declared coldly.
    “She has bite,” he said, his gaze raking over my body. “I like it.”
    “Can I do something for you, Mr. O’Connell? I am here in an official capacity just so you know.”
    He smiled and reached out for my lanyard. “Oh, I know,” he said, wrapping his finger around the red strap. Glancing at the card with my credentials, his smile widened further. “Josie Cunningham.”
    Yanking the card from his tattooed hand, I scowled. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
    Laughing at my outburst, he declared, “How about you come and work PR for me? Leave those wankers the Hayes Twins behind and come to where the action and money is. I can beat your salary plus fifty percent.”
    “No, thank you,” I said, surprised at his forthrightness. Five meters away from a wall of fans and cameras, no less.
    “Fine, I’ll double whatever those limp dicks pay you.”
    My eyebrows rose, and I shook my head. “You really have gall, you know that?”
    He leaned in, his hand brushing over my waist, and murmured, “Directness has its advantages.”
    “And I’m directly professional.”
    He let his hand fall away, his gaze never leaving mine. “I know what I want, Josie, and I want the best on my team. You’re the best. Helps that you’re fucking stunning.” He lowered his gaze to my breasts, not even trying to hide the fact he was probably picturing me naked and wrapped around his cock.
    Hell yeah, I loved fooling around with a bad boy but not when they expected me to be the one bowing down to them. Too bad for Gabe O’Connell, I was a harder